


Two Fathers, A Frenchman and a Baby

by TheeWrites_TF2



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Accents, Alternate Universe, Babies, Boston, Both Men are Smartasses, But we still love them, Cutesy, Dad!Scout, DadScout, DadSpy, Father-Son Relationship, Google translate was used, Jokes, Jungle Inferno Easter Egg, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sorry I don't speak french, Tags May Change, Yes its a new thing, Yetis - Freeform, barely, cuteness, dad!spy, dash of angst, father-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 04:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12622712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheeWrites_TF2/pseuds/TheeWrites_TF2
Summary: There are two fathers, one Frenchman, and a baby in one room, at about one in the morning. That's about it.





	Two Fathers, A Frenchman and a Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Two Fathers, A Frenchman and a Baby  
> Word Count: 3740 (Uh, holy shit, this is a big one)  
> Chapters: 1/1  
> Publish Date: Nov. 3 2017  
> Plot: There are two fathers, one frenchman, and a baby in one room, at about one in the morning.   
> Warnings: Cuteness, slight language warnings, Scout being a smartass, more cuteness, the author used Google Translate for the French, author doesn’t completely, know how you operate babies, there is barely an attempt at accents, a dash or two of angst, and Spy is still low-key a smartass. Also, Dad!Spy feels. Your welcome.  
> Also, LONG A.N. at end of chapter. Sorry, but not sorry.

**_Enjoy!_ **

**Two Fathers, A Frenchman and a Baby**

* * *

 

 

Jeremy pretended to stay asleep for at least three minutes… three minutes, did that really make him a bad guy? He winced as he felt the body beside him shift, a exhausted grumble sounding. The Boston native sighed, “I got ‘em.” He muttered, sitting up and leaving a quick kiss on their cheek, before rolling out of bed and creeping out of the room, letting out a curse when he walked straight into the wall on his way out of the bedroom, towards the muffled sound of crying down the hall.

 

As he slowly made his way down the hall, Jeremy felt a chill as he moved down the hall, and no, it wasn't just because of his white t-shirt and boxers being his only apparel. Instinct and years being employed as a mercenary made him pause beside an innocent looking vase, until he reached into the vase and silently pulled out a simple, but effective handgun, already loaded. He pressed his back to the wall, all exhaustion leaving his mind as he silently made his way to the final door at the end of the hall, where that feeling of uneasiness originated from. Putting his hand over the doorknob, he slowly opened the door, grey-blue eyes scanning the room. 

 

Once he deemed it safe, he swiftly made his way through the nursery to his wailing son, quickly picking up the four month old from his cradle. “Hey, kiddo…” Jeremy Monroe murmured, smiling down at his infant son as he rearranged his grip securely, keeping the pistol in the hand not holding the little one. “Rough night too, eh? Pretty sure I was awake before ya started crying for us…” His eyes carefully scanned the dark nursery, before he slowly made his way to the window, smiling down softly at the small baby he held securely. “Ya know, you usually cry MUCH louder, when there's no body around… ya seem to have the talent down, when you KNOW there's someone just two good steps away, so you don't have to yell as loud.” Jeremy raised his pistol, eyes snapping when the barrel came in contact with a invisible figures chin. “Someone like a no-good, creepin’  **Spy** .”

 

For a moment, there was dead silence, before a sigh as Spy dropped his cloak, glaring distastefully at the gun. “I see domestic lifestyle hasn't dulled your… quirks.” Spy raised a glowing cigarette to his mouth, eyes watching Scout lazily. “Are you going to shoot me?” 

 

“Thought I told you not to smoke with the kid around.”

 

“This is the first time you've caught me coming in here.”

 

“...Oh. Then I guess I forgot. Anyway, smoke out, now.”

 

Spy sighed dramatically, smoothly clicking open the window and flicking his prized cigarette away. Jeremy watched for a moment, before lowering the gun and stepping away from the Frenchman, carrying his son away.

 

Spy noticed he had not put down the pistol, but followed him anyway.

 

“So, you always break into kids bedrooms, Spook?” Scout asked, flicking on the lamp before sitting down in a rather cushy armchair, setting the pistol on one of the arm, just within reach. Spy glanced around the room, half-hoping there was a second chair. When there wasn't, he have scout a glare, leaning against the wall. “I simply wanted to see what all the fuss was about  _ that _ one.” Spy retorted, nodding to the raven-haired child the young father had began to rock in an attempt to calm the boy down.

 

“Spy. I know this isn't your first time breaking in here.” Jeremy said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “This is the first time I've caught ya,  _ sure,  _ but this, what? Third, forth..?”

 

“Eighth, actually,” Spy said calmly, eyes roaming around the small nursery, a place he already memorized the first time he popped in. “I've been meaning to ask, who gave you the Yeti mobile?”

 

“Saxton Hale, said he wanted the kid to dream about beating the snot out of living things at an early age…” His partner didn't like it, but their son had giggled at the ridiculous sight, so Scout somehow got it to stay. “Don't change the subject, Spy. Why do you feel the need to sneak around, Instead of usin’ a door like a normal freakin’ person.” Jeremy paused after his miniature rant when he was interrupted by a small whine from his son, and he looked up at the older man. “Hey, mind grabbing his bottle from the fridge?”

 

“Hm. One door down, to the right?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“His red bottle or that horrid baseball themed you got him?”

 

“Just for that comment, the baseball one.”

 

“Lovely.”

 

After Spy walked away, the Boston looked down at the baby in his arms, frowning. “Seriously, how many times had this guy been here, and ya didn't say anything?” He asked, dead serious, and his son merely blinked back up at him, identical grey-blue eyes wide and innocent. Jeremy sighed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “You better not be giving him that cutesy, innocent look. Save it for the ladies, little man.” Spy returned to the room, handing off the bottle to Jeremy. “I took on the generous task of heating up its formula, your welcome.” 

 

Jeremy looked down at the bottle, then back at Spy, looking suspicious. WIthout a word, he screwed off the lid and stuck his finger into the formula, quickly giving it a taste while Spy rolled his eyes. “Scout, it’s not poisoned.” Scout stuck out his tongue at the older man, “Hey, with you, everythin’ is a mystery.” He paused, then gave the Frenchman a sheepish grin, “Plus, some of guys left some of their, uh... _ supplies _ ‘round here. Don't want Jackie here accidently drink some gunpowder or whateva.”

 

Scout leaned back, letting his kid latch onto the bottle to drink greedily. “It’s a bit… Small.” Spy said, walking around to look at assorted childs toys. Scout rolled his eyes, “It's a  _ he _ , first off. Second, he arrived earlier than expected.” The young father sounded a tad defensive on the last bit, going quiet before saying, determined, “Ma said I was a bit small too. Made me faster, easier to get into small places, an’ if this kid is anything like me, he’ll be the exact same.” Spy remained silent as the man ranted, looking distastefully at, what he assumed was, a stuffed bear… However, the crudely sown eyepatch and the  _ (hopefully) _ deactivated sticky bomb in the bears hand, gave little doubt on which Scottish merc made this. Spy was content with ignoring the Bostonian behind him, until he asked a question that made him stop dead in his tracks.

 

“You ever held the kid? Or…  **A** kid?”

 

“... No. And I do not plan t-”

 

Suddenly, a four month old was placed on one arm, its bottle in his other hand, and Scout was halfway out the door, calling over his shoulder nonchalantly, “You support the head, when he’s done drinkin’, you gotta pat him on the back for burpin’ and if you drop him or ditch him in his crib and try to escape, I will personally send you to respawn before you can say ‘ _ oui-oui baguette. _ ’ See ya in a minute, Frenchie.” With that, the Boston walked out of the nursery and taking his pistol away and out of the room with him, leaving Spy to frantically his name after him, clearly distressed. “Scout,  _ SCOUT,”  _ The Frenchman whisper/shouted after him, because he had no idea what to do. After no response, Spy swore violently in French, warily looked down at the baby in his arms, which was now staring up at him, equally wary of this new development, with…

 

…

_ “Mon dieu.”  _

 

Spy only just realized, as he stared down at those eerily familiar blue eyes, that all three of them had the exact same shade of blue-grey irises.

 

At this realization, Spy sighed, criticizing himself for not seeing the similarities sooner. He was a Spy, detecting the details was his job, how he missed this was beyond him. The first time he had snuck in to see the brats son, the child had still been in the hospital. Spy didn’t stick around long, but he stayed long enough to see that Scout…  _ Jeremy,  _ hadn’t left the room where his son was being cared for, and had taken up to sleeping in that cold hospital room on a chair beside the incubator. Spy had taken one look at the scene, before he strode right on out of the hospital room. 

 

Spy would swear til his dying day, that the jacket Jeremy had found over his shoulders the next morning was NOT his own.

 

He didn’t return to see the newborn, until it had been released from the hospital, and the visits had been short, fleeting. Just a quick peek into the child's nursery… Small visits, to satisfy his natural, overbearing curiosity over this babys existance.

 

After a moment, Spy sighed deeply through his nose, shifting his grip on the baby slightly, attempting to mimic the hold he had seen the chatterbox Bostonian use. The child's bottom lip wavered for a terrifying minute, and Spy commanded, “Don’t,” Although it sounded more like desperation than an actual order for the infant to follow. The baby, miraculously, followed his command, and Spy went to work on feeding the little one, eyes glaring angrily as he looked out the room, waiting for the brat to return.

 

“ _ Je vais tordre le cou de poulet maigre,”  _ The Frenchman swore, unaware that little Jack had pulled away from his bottle, watching the older man curiously. “ _ Avant que je pousser cette chauve-souris à droite dans son- _ ” A small giggle broke his rant, and he quickly looked down at the child, suddenly worried he had broken it somehow. The baby was smiling up at him, toothless and completely unaware of the threats the masked man had been saying, but smiling all the same at the funny noises the man had been making. Spy sighed, but offered a small smile it return, placing the boys bottle down to hold him in both arms, offering him more support. “ _ Ah, mon petit corbeau noir… _ ” He murmured, running a gloved hand through the child's black hair, one of the few qualities he didn’t inherit from his father's side of the family. “ _ Quand vous êtes un peu plus vieux, peut-être je peux vous enseigner le français ... Vous semblez apprécier la langue,”  _ He said thoughtfully, smiling as the child laughed again.

 

“Ya moron, he’s not laughing at your gibberish,” Scout said loudly, carrying in the child's diaper bag over his shoulder. “He probably just made a mess in his diaper. Give ‘im here.” Spy grimaced in disgust and hurriedly handed the child back to his father, who smirked at his succession of the ruining the little moment. “Also, if you try to teach him French when i’m not lookin’, ‘m gonna teach him how to swear when he’s older, and make him to practice all his cuss words on you.” Spy snorted at the threat, walking away as Jeremy started working on the soiled diaper. “It will still be worth it, when his first word is not in any variation of English.” He said smugly, already picturing Scouts stunned and crestfallen face, should the child pick up Spy’s mother tongue prior to learning English. Scout tossed a glare over his shoulder, “I could toss this diaper at you, so don’t go thinkin’ up any ideas about turning my kid into your little French fry.” He warned, and Spy raised his hand in surrender, saving his plots for later.

 

“Out of curiosity, when do you plan on returning to the base?” Spy asked casually, keeping his distance as Jeremy cleaned up. The Scout shrugged, thinking it over for a second, “I think… Yeah, I think we move over there in ‘bout two weeks. Inks gotta dry on the papers before Ma and Jackie can move in.” Spy paused, not sure if he heard the boy correctly. “... Did you say…Your mother and…” Jeremy turned around, his child back in his arms with a raised brow. “Uh, yeah? Ma and Jack are gonna live in an apartment in Teufort, until the kiddo is going to kindergarten.” Scout walked past the stunned looking Frenchman, still talking about his plan. “After that, Ma will move back to Boston, i’ll move permanently off-base with Jackie, and we’ll live happily ever after, until my contract runs out...IF it ever does. Still got about six years on my current one, and It may be renewed when it runs out. Ya never know.” As Scout started rearranging the baby’s crib, Spy stared at him. “That… sounded very mature.” Spy said, stunned that the fast-talking, cowardly boy in front of him could already be thinking so far into the future, all for the sake of that child.

 

It was almost impressive, but something nagged at Spy about the plan…

 

“What about his mother?” Spy asked, and Jeremy froze instantly, his back to Spy. For a long moment, there was dead silence. Then the Scout, picking his words carefully, slowly said, “Jackie’s Ma... wants to stay here in the East… Get her degree. She’ll... probably come down to Teufort in a year or two...”

 

Months later, Spy would think back to this very conversation, when Jeremy received the legal papers from Jack's mother… The papers that were to grant Scout full-custody and parental rights of their son. Scouts face was crestfallen, but amazingly, he confided and admitted to Spy that he had a feeling this would happen. Jeremy told Spy that, though they tried to keep the relationship going, it was never that serious to begin with… Spy also had the sneaking suspicion, that the woman herself did not want the child in the first place. Jeremy would never confirm or admit, that he had been the one to convince Jack's mother to keep the baby. And after the legal papers were signed, Jack’s mother was practically impossible to contact to find out the truth, after she voluntarily terminated all her parental rights.

 

But, that would be months from now, and Spy only took Scouts words in carefully, before turning away from the subject.

 

“Well...I’m glad you have that situation all worked out,” Spy said, then smirked. “I’ll be sure to give your mother a  _ personal _ welcome, upon her arrival at Teufort.” The younger man felt his lower eyelid twitch, but decided to ignore the meaning behind the Frenchmans words. Only a few more weeks, then Scout could send him through respawn as many times as he liked. Jeremy looked down at his kid, who was starting to doze off and smiled down at him warmly, checking to make sure his kid was tucked in, nice and warm. After running his hand over the baby's soft black hair, Jeremy leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Get some sleep kiddo, okay?” He said softly, waiting until he watched the baby close his eyes firmly. The Scout then turned, and pointed to Spy, then to the door of the nursery, eyes screaming at the Frenchman to keep quiet.

 

The Spy rolled his eyes, but followed the younger man out the door, pausing a second to look back at the baby within his crib. Spy allowed a small, honestly warm smile to appear on his face, before he silently shut the door behind them and the smile faded away. Spy and Scout both held their breaths for a moment, listening for any signs of a wailing infant, until they sighed in relief simultaneously. Then Jeremy looked up at Spy, eyes narrowed slightly, but not in hostility. “Okay, look. Tonight, you're using the front door… And,  _ please _ , just use the front door like a goddamn normal person when you wanna come over, alright?” Spy rolled his eyes, as they quietly walked down the hall towards the front foyer. “Very well, although it goes against many decades of training-” Oh, you actually trained?” Scout mocked, and Spy responded with glare as they reached the front door.

 

“So, you staying with the guys or something?”

“Or something. I will tell your mother you said Hi.”

“Ha ha…wait, are you serious?”

Spy smirked, opening the front door silently. “Well, Scout, I cannot say with honesty that I look forward to your return to Teufort, but I can say that it is… an highly anticipated welcome, both you and your son will recieve when you return.” Jeremy gave him a crooked grin, “Thanks Frenchie. Oh, and before I forget...”

 

Suddenly, a paper was thrust up into Spy's face, and Scouts face was cool, a raised brow. “Care to explain what is on this paper?”

 

It was Spy’s greatest achievement. His best mission, the result of a successful break-in, and, in a way, his legacy. It was also, officially known as baby Jacks birth certificate.

 

“I don’t see a problem,” Spy said, smirking over ther paper at Jeremy, who pointed at the name that was scrawled carefully onto the document. “Spy. That ain't my handwritin’.” He said bluntly, before pointing the accusatory finger at the smug Frenchman. “That’s YOURS, aint it?” Scout snapped, eyes irritated and Spy shrugged. “Again, I fail to see the problem with the name printed on the paper.” He say lightly, and Scout only glared back.

 

“Spy, you literally snuck in, foraged my handwritin’, and, LITERALLY named my kid ‘Jack Rabbit’! Like, seriously… what the fuck?”

“His name is pronounced ‘Jacques Lapin.’ Considering his first name was going to be ‘Jackson,’ there is not much difference.” 

 

Jeremy crossed his arms, fuming silently. “Still! Why’s the name gotta be French?! Jackson was a perfectly fine name.” Spy only smirked, opening the front door, “Well, now little ‘ _ Jacques’ _ has the perfect excuse to learn French, doesn’t he?” Spy chuckled at the look on Jeremy’s reddening face, before he quickly cloaked and slipped out the door and out of the building, disappearing into the early hours of morning in Boston.

 

Meanwhile, Jeremy grumbled as he carefully put Jacks birth certificate away in the nursery, before looking over at the sleeping infant in his crib. “Your grandpa is a face AND a name-stealing jerk.” The Scout grumble quietly, before creeping out of the room, for hopefully the last time of the night. He really wanted to catch a few extra hours of sleep, before the sun rose in about five hours.

 

Jeremy got about halfway to his bedroom, before his son suddenly let out a loud wail from his crib, almost as if he knew that this time, there was no Frenchman in his room who would come pick him up. Jeremy closed his eyes, sent a silent curse up to the Heavens, before he slowly turned and trudged back to his son’s room, about to go though the whole routine all over again. 

 

Ah, the joys of young fatherhood.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N. This idea came to me about a month ago, and I fell in love with the plot, as well as lil’ Jackie, who may not be canon in the game or comics, but will always be canon in my heart. It was fun to write Spy and Scout, as just two guys in a room with a baby, but also keeping the undertones of fatherhood within the story. No, I don’t think that canonically, Spy was there to raise a baby Scout, like Scout had dreamed about in comic #3. But, still, it was interesting to write a not-to-angsty story about fatherhood, featuring Spy. He may not have been the best father, but as a grandfather? I personally think, that Lil’ Jack is going to be the most spoiled and protected grandkid in history…
> 
> (Also, yes. The other mercs totally spoil and dote on Scouts son. This kid has like, nine dads, and eight of them also double as grandpas… This kid has the best childhood ahead of him, I swear.)
> 
> Originally, Jack’s mom was going to have a bigger role, but I decided in the end not to. While I can imagine Scout one day settling down with someone, The character I wrote as Jackie's mom was not a person I could easily see as his significant other, nor did I see her as a particularly motherly figure to Jack. This isn’t something I would judge her severely about, since I have met people before, both mothers and fathers, who have willingly given up their parental rights, because they knew that they couldn’t be the parent their children needed. She’s not meant to be written as a bad person, just not meant to be a mother. I also wanted to leave her character, somewhat up to interpretation. Was she Scouts highschool sweetheart? A lengthy one-night stand? I’ll live it up to you, the audience.
> 
> Will I return to this little AU I have written? Most definitely, because Jackie has wormed his way into my heart, and I think there's plenty of material open for me to use with him, in future one-shots or other. If you guys want to REQUEST something in this AU, go ahead! And, if one of you lovely people ever want to, I don’t know, DRAW or create fanart for this oneshot… Message me, so I can publicly declare my love and appreciation for you, because, if I had the drawing and artist talent in me, this one-shot would've been a comic, or had plenty of art to go along with the story.
> 
> Sadly, or not so sadly, my hands were made for writing and typing stories for my lovely, amazing audience, and not for artwork of any kind. (dammit.)
> 
> Thank you so much for your support so far, and here’s to many one-shots in the future! Thanks again, and I hope to see y’all at my future one-shots!


End file.
